Friday, February 01, 2008


mother nature can be a bitch sometimes...

i was sitting at my momma's kitchen table on a sunny summer saturday morning, leaning back in a chair with my hands crossed over my growling stomach. the air was caked with the aroma of frying pig and pancakes and i had just finished licking my lips in anticipation of getting at some breakfast. mom loaded my plate with flap jacks and bacon before placing it in front of me. i rubbed my hands gleefully, jabbing my fork into the stack and lifted a syrup soaked piece towards my mouth, i heard her inhale deeply before letting out a bereft sigh.

ut oh...

"i know you don't want to hear this tanya, but..."

i froze.

the sunny summer day evaporated behind the sullen sound of a repeating refrain. my fork slipped from suddenly numb fingers to clatter like thunder against the side of the plate. i bent my head over my food in an attempt to ignore the clouds of gun-metal gray forming over my confidence.

"you're 35 and single..." she began, her reign falling upon my shoulders first as a soft mist of concern before deluging me with a downpour of maternal disappointment. my appetite was washed away in its wake.

"with no man on the horizon..."

i shrugged as the words slid from my shoulders to fall into pools of self-recrimination upon the table. i stared at the cloth and picked up my fork, gripping it like it was the lone limb of a tree clutching the earth with desperation as the whirlwinds tried to rip its grip from the ground.

"and in a minute your eggs are gonna be too old to fry," she finished with enough sarcasm to lay bare the remaining terrain of my composure.

fuck. THIS.

i carefully placed the fork on the table and stood up, my body battered from the baring of my vulnerability. slowly i made my way to the counter, opened the cabinet, and pulled out a large plastic container and lid. making my way back to the table, my face was void of the bitter debris remaining from the her harangue. i averted my gaze as i picked up the plate and dumped its contents into the container.

"where are you going?" mom exclaimed as she watched me seal it with the lid. i ignored her as i gathered my keys and made my way towards the front door.

"i thought you were staying for breakfast!" she sputtered to my retreating back. i turned to her as i opened the door.

"i came for the food, mom." i stated quietly but firmly, "not the fuss."

then i walked out the door, slamming it behind me.

mother 'nurturing' can be a bitch sometimes...

(to be continued)